


A is for Aerial

by smoakmonster



Series: How I Love Thee: A to Z [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vegas, Eye Contact, F/M, OHFAT, Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon, Trapeze, olicity - Freeform, olicity au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 18:46:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11132616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoakmonster/pseuds/smoakmonster
Summary: Felicity is an amateur and struggling trapeze performer in Vegas. Slowly but surely, her new partner Oliver teaches her how to overcome her fears, both on and off the stage.





	A is for Aerial

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Eye Contact
> 
> This is a somewhat different style from my usual stories, so I hope you enjoy!

~

_This is the time to try_

_Step out your life is waiting_

_And as you fall you'll find_

_That you can fly ([x](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/superchick/thisisthetime.html)) _

~

She stands on the precipice, waiting, trembling, wanting the inevitable to be over...wanting it to never start.

She hates this part, the unsteady moment just before the world turns upside down, the endless pause before she has to once again defy reason and place her trust--her life--in the hands of something else...in someone else. She’s about to willingly send her body tumbling towards the earth without mercy, and maybe still lingering on the platform, with the very tips of her feet suspended over the edge, makes her a coward. But no matter how many times she does this, her fear of heights never wavers. There is not a lot that she is certain of any more in this life, but gravity is most definitely always and forever a sure thing.

It is the one constant in her profession. Almost as much as the constant spotlight that she never wished for.

Felicity takes a deep breath, repressing the urge to run. Already, her body is rebelling, her stomach so tight she can’t catch a full breath. It’s only thanks to years of training that she doesn’t immediately hurl on the spot. She’s learned to hold back even her most natural instincts. (At the expense of everything else, of course. But the show must go on, as they say. Or in this case, it actually has to start. And it always starts with her.)

It’s the worst part of every show, the lull before the first leap.

In the throbbing silence, she tries pushing her mind into a calmer state, as she imagines herself more in control than she feels. The rush before the plummet is a far-away, nonexistent thing that she can conquer. For just a moment, she lets the buzzing under her skin consume her from the inside out, until she consciously tries to turn it around. This is how she harnesses her fears, molding her terror into a tool, into something to be tamed, just like he taught her.

And it almost works.

Until she accidentally looks down.

_Oh no no no._

A sudden wave of nausea hits her. Felicity gulps, her heart flying into a panic. She slams her eyes shut as she abruptly takes a step _away_ from the cold edge of the platform. She can practically feel the spike in her blood pressure, feel the wildness of her pulse throughout her body. Her ears ring to the point of pain, and she feels like she’s drowning. Oh God. It’s so close now. Can your veins implode? Is that a thing? She’s pretty sure she read an article once…

She makes two tight fists. “I can do this. I can do this. I can so totally do this,” she chants to herself.

_Yes, you can._

She hears his warm voice in her head, and immediately her eyes fly open, her line of sight automatically finding his from way across the stage. He watches her with calm, quiet expectation. Even in the dim lighting, she can see the gentle certainty in his eyes, eyes that are somehow always so full of strength and patience. And there’s something else his look carries, something softer and familiar...reserved especially for her. Hope.

 _But either way, I've got you_ , his eyes seem to say.

When he gives her a brief nod of reassurance, she smiles back out of habit. He won’t move until she’s absolutely ready to go. He never forces her to do this.

It happens so quickly, she swears it’s impossible. He winks at her.

It’s so unexpected, she almost laughs. Now this is something she could truly drown in and have no regrets.

And it works.

Just for a minute, she forgets. She forgets they have an audience. She forgets about the impending drop into the unknown. She forgets about her mother’s medical bills and student loans and how she’s one strike away from being fired. She forgets it all.

It’s just the two of them, waiting for each other in the easy silence, looking out for one another like old friends do, never needing words.

Felicity licks her lips and takes a final step forward, drawing courage from his confidence. He follows her lead.

_I've got you._

He told her that once, a week after her accident, a week after her fear of heights really began to consume her. She's never really recovered emotionally from that event. Sometimes she thinks she never will.

_I've got you._

With one last look at her partner, she does the unthinkable.

She lets go and falls.

xxx

_Ten weeks ago_

_“I want her.”_

_His voice is calm yet commanding, echoing across the wide, open training space, calling to her like a beacon, hitting her straight in the heart._

_She’s pretty sure she forgets how to breathe._

_And it's not because she accidentally swallows a sip of water down the wrong pipe._

_And it’s not just because the new trainer is such a sight to behold that gazing at him literally steals her breath away. Although, to be fair, objectively speaking he is tall (taller than most people in their line of work), with an insanely good jawline and decent (and by decent, she means DEFINED) upper arms; yet they're not so big that they overpower his whole physique. Somehow, he strikes the perfect upper-to-lower-body proportion._

_But no, she forgets how to breathe when he looks right at her with a severe intensity, trapping her with his gaze. Not that she currently has the ability to move anywhere with any particular speed, even if she wanted to. But the way he's watching her...deeply yet almost kindly?...she doesn't want to move._

_“You want Felicity?” her manager asks, effectively breaking their bizarre connection. She hates being talked over like this, but the last time she interrupted him she nearly lost her job, so she's not taking any chances. “Listen, that girl is not ready for that level--”_

_“You hired me, because you needed my help,” he cuts her manager off smoothly, while maintaining eye contact with her and crossing his arms, which just brings the bicep game to an unnecessary level of distracting. “This is what my help looks like. I did my research. Felicity’s act consistently brings in the most revenue. You want your business to pick back up? Either she works with me, or I walk.”_

_The room falls into an uneasy silence, and she feels ten pairs of eyes all slowly turn towards her, feels the judgment and jealousy of her colleagues._

_But she keeps her eyes fixed on the man in front of her, the stranger coming to her defense._

_After some more awkward silence, Felicity shifts in her seat, ignoring the sudden pinch in her side, and ignoring the pinch in her chest under his constant gaze. She clears her throat and decides to address the issue. Other people may be shying away from this guy, but she's not about to be intimidated into doing something she physically cannot handle...anymore. As much as her boss drives her crazy, who does this newcomer think he is, grumpily ordering people around?_

_“Um, hello. Speaking of walking...I can’t really do that...right now.” Felicity playfully waves her cheap crutch around, as if to prove her point._

_Externally, he doesn't react much to her words, other than his frown seems to get even heavier, and then he takes several steps closer to her until...wow, he’s basically hovering within her personal space._

_“Give us the room, please.”_

_Like ants in a thunderstorm, her fellow performers scurry away, abandoning her to whims of the Mysterious Macho Man, who, the longer she studies him, is starting to look vaguely familiar._

_Nervously, Felicity sweeps a few stray hairs behind her ear. “Um. Hi.”_

_Immediately, his entire demeanor softens as he offers her a gentle smile. “Hi. I'm Oliver.”_

_She blinks, caught off guard by his sudden personality shift. How did he do that? Was all that fierce gruffness before an act? Or is this behavior now an act?_

_“Felicity--but you knew that already.”_

_When they briefly shake hands, Felicity really really tries to ignore the way her heart kind of freaks out by the touch._

_“Is it a stage name?” he asks, moving to sit beside her on the bench._

_“No. It's just...just my name.” She shrugs._

_He nods solemnly, as though acknowledging that he understands some deeper truth she’s just revealed._

_“Felicity? Can I ask you a question?”_

_“I think you just did.”_

_He smiles briefly, then grows serious again. “Do you want to do this?”_

_He gestures to the workout mats, before pinning her with his gaze once more, those deep blue eyes searching her own for a long time. It’s nerve-wracking having this level of intensity fixated on her. So Felicity does what she always does when she’s nervous. She talks._

_“If by ‘this’ you mean work with you, I don’t know. As you can see, I’m not in my prime condition. And my boss hates me and is basically looking for the next possible opportunity to fire me. Oh, and have you heard? The new show is going to have a trapeze in the middle of the dining room. Because nothing says Vegas like watching acrobats try not to fall on top of your lobster. Not that I’m particularly acrobatic--”_

_“Felicity,” he interrupts softly. “Do you want to be here?”_

_She hesitates but can’t bring herself to lie to him. “I don't really have a choice.”_

_He swallows, something grave crossing his face, but it’s gone before she can really assess it. “That makes two of us.” He utters it so quietly, she almost misses it._

_She frowns, wondering what in the world that could mean._

_But before she can dare to ask, he’s changed his temperament again. “Well,” he says a little more brightly, but it’s a false brightness, the kind that comes from years of experience working in shows like this. It’s a facade she’s achingly intimate with. It’s the facade she forces herself to wear every day when she looks in the mirror. “For now, we need to build your upper body strength. Without your legs distracting you, you can focus. You can get better.”_

_She snorts. “Yeah, sure. Because legs are such a hindrance. Besides, the doctors say that I’m…”_

_“I'm not talking about getting better here”--he touches her knee, and her whole skin positively freaks out, tingling in response; she swears she almost jumps despite her bad leg._

_“I'm talking about getting better here.” This time, he points to her head. “Anyone can swing from a bar. But do you have what it takes to keep doing it night after night with hundreds of people watching you?”_

_She sighs. She’s been asking herself that question every day since she foolishly took this job._

_“Do you have a degree in clinical psychology as well as physical therapy?” she asks him, half teasing, half not._

_He winks at her, almost flirtatiously, like they’re already good friends. “I'm a quick study.”_

_She hopes that she’s also a quick study, because rent and medicine for her mom kind of depend on her ability to learn and learn well._

xxx

_Seven weeks ago_

_Felicity follows Oliver on crutches to the middle of the training room, to just underneath the tallest structure in the room._

_Looking up, she pouts. “What is this?”_

_“It’s a bar,” says Oliver as though that explains his intentions entirely._

_She shoots him a glare. “Thank you. But you don’t really expect me to be ready for this yet?”_

_“Yes, I do. You’re gonna do a chin up today.”_

_“What?” she gasps, dread filling her stomach. “No, I can’t…Oliver, I can’t…” She licks her lips, terrified. Her leg in a boot feels about ten times heavier. Sure, she knows how to do a chin-up, but she’s incredibly out of shape. It was one thing to plan to return to the bar, to the heights of the unknown. Gradually. Eventually. One distant day, safely weeks away. But to have the task set before her right now…_

_“I’m scared,” she admits softly._

_“I know,” he whispers back, stepping nearer, filling up her space again. But she welcomes his body close to hers, because his presence is hardly threatening as much as it is comforting. Oliver is comforting._

_And maybe that thought should scare her more, how quickly he’s become so important to her, but it doesn’t. Everyone in Vegas may wear a mask, but he’s the first person she’s ever met to let the mask slip--even for a moment. She doesn’t see an act when she looks at him--and when he’s looking back at her with those saltwater sea blue eyes that are amazingly warm--she sees a person. Oh, it would so easy to let her guard down around him completely, to open herself back up to a world of pain at the gamble of gaining one true friend._

_Especially when he’s looking at her like he does know her fears exactly._

_“And I know it’s my own fault that I’m in this mess--”_

_“Hey, it's not your fault.” His hand comes up to rest briefly on her shoulder, offering her a gentle, reassuring squeeze, which has become a favorite friendly gesture of theirs._

_“Yes, it is. I'm the one who's afraid of heights. I'm the one who lost my balance--”_

_“It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if you make a mistake. Your partner should be able to anticipate your every move. He shouldn't have let you fall.”_

_The way he says that last part...it’s almost like his words carry some other hidden, indignant meaning with them._

_She licks her lips, still a bit unsure. She studies the bar overhead. “But when I fall from that thing--”_

_“If you fall--” He raises an eyebrow._

_She raises her own right back. “When I fall...I have nothing to catch my weight.”_

_“I’ll catch you,” he answers, his tone definitive and his eyes certain._

_Still, a lot can happen in this line of work. Accidents can happen._

_“Come here,” he tilts his head, almost bashfully, always asking, never demanding. He is truly unlike any trainer she’s ever met._

_She spins into place, pressing her back against his chest, waiting, listening to the thumping of her heartbeat filling her ears._

_But then his hands come up, pressing into her sides like they were made to hold her, and her heart starts to race for a different reason. Oliver proves to be the perfect distraction._

_She blinks, and suddenly she’s being hoisted into the air as though she weighed merely the equivalent of a pillow and not...well, a lot of pillows._

_“I believe in you,” he declares, just as his hands abandon her sides immediately when her grip makes contact with the bar. She has no choice but to hold on for dear life._

_“Ohhhhhhkay. I am chinning, and I am upping. Look. Am I doing this right?”_

_She’s not in control of her legs at the moment, and so the one that can move is making cyclic ballerina moves._

_“You’re doing great. Now, bend your arms and push.”_

_“I…” She tries. In her defense, she really does try. But after a third arduous attempt, Felicity begins to feel her grip slipping. “Oliver!”_

_And he’s there, just as he promised he would be. “Hey, I got you. Gotcha gotcha gotcha.”_

_She slides more-or-less gracefully directly into his waiting arms. To her surprise, he doesn't set her down right away either. Instead, he holds her close, his hand on her back like a heating pad, soothing her muscles down to her bones._

_She swallows when she realizes how close his face is to her now, how even their eyes are._

_“How was that?” she breathes, certain the huffing in her voice is due to her attempted workout and not from their newfound proximity._

_“That was…” He seem to be struggling to form words as much as she is. And that observation is oddly comforting as well, realizing that this amazing man is only human, too._

_“Awful, wasn’t it?”_

_He laughs. “It’s a good start. You’ve just gotta keep practicing.”_

_“Mm-hmm. Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, teacher,” she quips. “Does that mean I have a shot at trainee of the month?”_

_“No.” He’s serious again._

_“Oh.” She tries not to sound too disappointed._

_“Because you're not just my trainee. You're my partner.”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“We’re in this together. What happens to you, happens to me.”_

_“So when you said you were hired to help our show, you meant…”_

_“That I’ll be joining your act. Specifically.”_

_“Oh,” she says again, because for some reason that’s all her brain can come up with right now. Just the thought of spending even more time with Oliver and performing with him indefinitely...it’s a lot. But everything about Oliver is a lot. That’s generally just the Oliver way._

_“Is that going to be a problem?” he asks when she’s quiet for some time._

_“No!” she replies, perhaps a little too quickly, if his confused frown is anything to go by. “No, that’s not a problem. Why would that be problem?”_

_“Good.”_

_“Good. Can you put me down now?”_

xxx

_Six weeks ago_

_“Why me, Oliver?” she asks him one day, in response to his insistent prompt of “Talk to me, Felicity.” Oliver continually reminds her that in order for them to put their lives into each other’s hands, they need to know a little something about one another. They have to trust one another completely. She likes to remind him that trust takes time. To which, of course, Oliver accurately comments that they don’t have the time._

_He’s quiet and pensive for so long that she thinks maybe he didn’t hear her question. Finally, he answers her and his tone carries a raspy weight that hadn’t been there before. “The day we first met...I've seen pity enough to recognize when it's not there. And you...you looked at me different than anyone else. Like I was a mystery and not a victim. Like I was a whole person.”_

_When he looks at her, Felicity’s lips part in surprise. He’s unknowingly doing for her what she’d unknowingly already done for him. They make each other stronger, better. Maybe they really are partners._

_“I recognized you the first day,” she confesses._

_He frowns, not following her train of thought at first. But then it hits him and she watches the horror flash across his face before he composes himself. “You didn’t say anything,” he utters despondently._

_“I guess I’m just curious as to why you'd rather spend your life hiding, performing in these ridiculous shows instead of returning home to your family?”_

_Not surprisingly, he doesn’t answer her question. He just asks one of his own. “How long have you known?”_

_Trying to turn the conversation back to lighter ground, she replies with, “I may not have the MIT degree that I wanted, but I can still Google. Don’t worry. I can keep a secret.”_

_“I know. That’s why, why I chose this place…”_

_‘Why I chose you’ goes unsaid, but she reads the confession behind his eyes just the same._

xxx

_Two weeks ago_

_“Open your eyes, Felicity,” Oliver whispers against her temple, with his arms already a firm brace around her torso. They stand at the edge of the platform, preparing for their final jump of their final rehearsal of their final day training together. After this, her act will officially be starting back up again._

_Everything hangs on this last leap. No pressure._

_“Hey, you don't have to do this.”_

_Felicity lets out a little, humorless laugh._

_That's the thing about Oliver. As skilled of a partner he is, as patient of an instructor, he still never ever pressures her to get the job done._

_“Yeah, I do.” She licks her lips, squinting one eye open to skeptically regard the net, which, from this height, appears a long, long way down. “It’s just...are you sure I can do this?”_

_He gives her shoulder a quick squeeze. “You’re stronger than you look. You just have to believe it. You have to prove them wrong.”_

_“Who, the team? They’re uh...they’re just trying to help--”_

_“Not them. You don’t owe them anything.” His rough, slightly angry tone takes her aback. “I’m talking about the audience. The only way to overcome your fears is if you let them carry your fears for you.”_

_“What does that mean?” She twists her head to look back at him._

_“There will be people out there expecting you to fall, expecting you to fail. And yes, there might even be people out there who would enjoy it. But you can’t let that stop you.”_

_“But...what happens if I fall?” She feels like she’s back where she started, like a child asking for protection._

_“You won’t,” he answers immediately. “If you could hold onto me with an injured leg, you can hold onto me with a healed one.”_

_She nods a few times, trying to make herself believe his words. After all this time, she’s still unsure, still unprepared, still...still afraid of heights._

_And after all this time, Oliver interprets and anticipates her fears better than most. Better than anyone._

_“Don’t trust the ropes or the wires or the net,” he breathes against her neck. “They’re not what’s holding onto you. I am. You have to believe that I will catch you.”_

_Oliver grabs hold of the bar floating in front of them, before spinning around to face her, suspending his weight at a weird angle that must do wonders for those glorious abs of his. Focus, Felicity. Focus._

_She follows his lead, but he leaves the final step, the final choice to her._

_“Hold onto me tight.”_

_She stretches out to him, trying to ignore the sudden image flooding her brain of him saying something like to her under different circumstances...very platonic circumstances. Her arms come up and wrap around his waist with practiced ease._

_“How do I know when to let go?” she breathes, keeping her eyes on him._

_“You'll know.”_

xxx

She’s falling, plummeting to the earth, to her end...her stomach churning, leaping higher into her throat with each drop. The same roar fills her ears, drowning her from the inside out.

But then, at the last second she remembers what to do--she spins and propels herself forward and into place, extending her arms up and out, stretching herself as far as she will go, and then...waits…

For an eternity, she waits, suspended in the air, lingering in her forever fear of losing his grip and never getting back up again.

A second passes.

And then she feels it. She feels herself surrendering to gravity, the rushing panic consuming her, fire and ice spreading all over skin, as her heart grows heavy.

He’s forgotten about her.

He won’t catch her in time.

Every night, he does this to her. Every night, he asks for her trust. Every night, she waits for him to find her in the darkness, to reach out and rescue her before it’s too late…

Big, warm, familiar hands encircle her own, catching her just in time, pulling her up. His touch is like coming alive. His palms against her skin are at once the most jarring and yet soothing experience.

His eyes lock with hers as soon as she looks up, and they share a knowing, relieved smile.

She allows herself just one surreal moment to study him as he hangs upside down, holding onto her like it’s his life that depends on her not falling. As they watch each other, they fall into natural, well-rehearsed habits.

He never lets her go until she’s ready to give him her trust once more. And every time he asks her, she freely gives it

 _Relax_ , his eyes tell her.

She nods briefly, and yet what Oliver doesn’t realize is that both the solution and the problem to her fears is currently wrapped around her, currently keeping her body suspended from the earth, while also keeping her mind and heart grounded.  

He says not to ignore the audience, but when he looks at her like this... the entire world could be collapsing around them and she'd be clueless and content.

And she finds herself drowning for a different reason, falling into a blissful sea of strength and stability, where gravity doesn't exist because for the first time she feels like she's flying. She feels _free_.

She takes a few deep breaths, just like they've practiced a hundred thousand times.

And as usual, she feels the effect almost immediately.

This was his idea, of course, to hold on to her like this for what feels like minutes without end. Casually. As though this ridiculous display of strength is effortless.

He nods to her. _Hold onto to me tight._

That’s the signal for the second trick.

And it’s as she’s flying through the air again, a sacred truth finally surfaces in her mind, one she once was hardly comfortable enough to admit to herself.

She jumps, not just because it’s part of her job to do so.

She jumps, because it means she gets to feel him hold her.

She jumps, because night after night he keeps his promise. He keeps her safe.

xxx

He finds her in her dressing room, in the process of rubbing off her makeup.

“Hey, you did great out there tonight,” he says, propping himself against her doorway.

“Thanks, but I think it was a team effort. We really sold it.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“See?” she answers brightly. “You don’t have to compliment me just to keep me from quitting. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Oh.” She stops with her routine, so she can face him properly, uncaring about the state of her face. “Then what are you doing?”

“I’m...just saying a nice thing about my friend.” He shuffles on his feet, a bit unsure.

“Friends? Is that what we are?” she teases.

“Well, I...I thought, the implication with everything’s that happened the last few weeks…”

“Relax, Oliver. Of course we’re friends.”

Felicity moves closer to him, smiling sadly at his obvious relief, though he still looks a bit…out of sorts for some reason. The Oliver she knows is usually so cool and collected, and this Oliver seems so...nervous. All the weeks she’s spent training with him, and he’s never once given her a sign that he’s anything but confident. He’s seen her without makeup dozens of times before. He’s seen her with less material covering her, in tiny bedazzled pink and purple leotards. What is with him tonight?

“Oliver?” she asks, rubbing his arm gently, in that way that always seems to soothe after a long night.

“Hmm?”

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me, I guess. For helping me get here.”

“It was a team effort,” he echoes her words from earlier with a smile, though it’s still not quite the full and easy smile he usually wears around her. He seems so closed off, a fraction of the man that she knows, which has her worried, inwardly trembling that the mask is starting to come back on, that maybe everything she’s wanted for them was a false hope...

“And you never, ever have to thank me, Felicity.”

He closes the gap between them, until they’re breathing the same air. Slowly, so slowly she doesn’t notice right away, he starts to lean closer. But then he stops, just to brush his nose against hers, just out of her reach. And suddenly she realizes they’re standing on another precipice, and he’s asking her to take one more leap with him.

This time she’s gladly the one to jump first, crashing her lips into his.

He responds immediately, pulling her up into his arms, carrying her with intimacy. He kisses the same way he trains, with everything in him, pouring himself into the act, making her feel protected but also cherished.

“What took you so long?” she mutters against his lips when they finally part to breathe but still cling to each other.

“You’re not the only one who’s afraid, you know.”

“Do you trust me with _this_?” she whispers, laying her hand directly over his heart, nestling her fingers against his chest, her other favorite spot.

He doesn’t even have to answer her, because the glow in his eyes gives him away. _Yes_.

And so they take the leap together, falling into the unknown, as they fall in love more deeply day by day.

“I hope this wasn't just another trust exercise,” she teases.

He chuckles warmly against her head before he kisses her hair.

It turns out to be their greatest trust exercise yet, in fact. Neither lets the other one go.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
